A Billionaire With Benefits

by Lena Skye

  He recalled her herculean efforts when she saved Aunt Vicky. No one was quick enough, except her. She was on the right track, wanting to be a nurse, then maybe a doctor if she wanted to. He thought about extending the corporation’s social responsibility to education. She deserved to finish her studies. He thought about helping her with her tuition. Justin had never had a problem with his and his siblings’ educational expenses. Mikaela was one of those rare people who worked hard and saved a lot for studies.

  No matter how stressful her day was, she tried to smile. He saw this as he passed by the café one day, without her knowledge. From inside his car, he saw her close the café, dancing and singing to some hip-hop song by the way she moved. It made him smile, seeing how upbeat she still was, along with two other co-workers who enjoyed her closing performance. There was something about her smile. Lots of people have nice smiles, he told himself, but her smile was a stunner, however.

  She had that beguiling, wide smile that many would want to see. He had sort of expected to see that kind of smile grace the covers of magazines, billboards, and maybe on those pesky online ads that popped up so often. It was surprising to find a face like that in a coffee shop, how could the model scouts have missed that? She didn’t need to be tall, she could have been a face model…

  No, she shouldn’t be a model. There was a reason why he picked her, she was different from all the other women he had met. There was some kindness in her that radiated, and frankly, it annoyed him, because he couldn’t be as kind as she was. That was probably why he liked to tease her, so he couldn’t see her smile. It made him think otherwise. It made him vulnerable if he responded to her…

  Now, in front of the California sunrise, he found himself stripping out of his clothes and quickly putting on his wetsuit, one he hadn’t used in months, since his father’s death anniversary. Then he took out his surfboard and paddled out to sea.

  ***

  She wanted to see him, but it never happened. He didn’t answer her calls or texts. It had been five days and she was getting antsy once more. Perhaps he flew off to London again? He was a busy man, after all. She read somewhere that one could never be successful in juggling work and relationships. One always had to give way to the other. She He saw how he loved his family, though. He seemed more relaxed with them.

  Maybe he was teaching her a delayed lesson for refusing to have a good romp with him back in London. She had gotten that lingerie set just to tease him. Thoughts about Justin were affecting her so much that she began to lose sleep. She began to forget things, she smiled less. This was noticed by the owner, who promptly called her to his office to have a nice little employer to employee chat.

  “All right, what’s going on?” he began. “You’ve been acting all weird since your vacation. Where’d you go, anyway?”

  “Washington,” she lied, unable to believe she lied. She felt bad, but she didn’t want to say she went on an international trip and that she stayed in a five-star boutique hotel. She would resign on her own terms.

  “Washington? That isn’t even worthy of a vacation. I was expecting Hawaii or something. Maybe abroad.”

  “I can’t afford that. I was there to-to see my parents and my brother. I haven’t visited in a while…” her voice trailed off.

  The owner stopped. So she was there to visit her family’s graves. He felt a pang of sympathy for her and he nodded. “I hope it hasn’t affected you too much. You deserved a good vacation, not a weepy one.”

  “I had fun. It was a mix of feelings, actually,” she told him, remembering parts of her London trip. Sure, there were enjoyable times, but there had been moments she felt like crying. Keep it all in, sucker, she told herself. She wouldn’t allow herself to cry in front of her boss, either.

  “Can you hang on for the day?”

  “I can hang on till next year,” she replied with a smile.

  “’Atta girl.”

  She left the office with a smile on her face, but there was a part of her that wanted to scream. A part of her that wanted to run up to Justin and slap him until he came to his senses. She wanted to shout at him, tell him she wasn’t difficult to love, that she already liked him too much to back out. She told herself she wasn’t in love yet, or maybe she was in love, and the length of time she had known him made her conscious about it.

  There were many factors she shouldn’t like him. He was arrogant, conceited, and though he treated women like royalty, there was just no warmth there, he almost had no sense of kindness. Money and power, and maybe his inflated ego ruled his world. There was no room in that kind of world for her. Yet, here she was, pining over someone who would never look at her the way she looked at him.

  How could he ignore her for five days? As soon as she got home, she texted him, asking how he was. It was past seven when she got home, and she thought he would be home by then. The minutes seemed like hours as she waited for a reply. He didn’t reply again. It was getting embarrassing for her, but she swallowed her pride.

  If you want something, you have to work for it, she thought. She was no man-eater, but she told herself she wasn’t ugly enough to keep guys away. She had thought she had used her smile to her advantage, but he was cold and heartless. It was the first time her smile hadn’t worked on someone. It stung her pride a little, actually.

  She had finished showering when she saw her phone blink. She quickly grabbed it, almost losing grip of her phone. It was Justin. She smiled.

  I’m fine.

  That was all he said. He didn’t even bother to ask how she was doing. She suddenly wanted revenge again. He was doing this on purpose. He was a frickin’ sadist. Did she just think about the word frickin’, instead of a curse word? What was happening to her? She wasn’t cursing when an opportune time to curse was now.

  And he wasn’t even in the same room with her. She couldn’t bring herself to say one curse word anymore. He had changed that part of her, and she didn’t know if she was happy about it or not. Cursing was part of her spontaneity, something she picked up after her parents died, a coping mechanism.

  That’s great. What are you up to tonight? she asked him.

  Sleep, probably.

  She stopped herself from replying. It was clear he wasn’t in a conversational mood. She carelessly tossed her phone away. Tomorrow, she would teach the kids at the center. That could take her mind off things. She still hung onto some strange notion that he would really end up liking her.

  She hated the feeling.

  Chapter13

  Strangely enough, the day after she stopped texting him, he called her, while she was on lunch break.

  “What do you want?” she asked curtly.

  “Did you enroll at nursing school already?”

  “No,” she said, surprised he asked.

  “Great, I saw a scholarship you might like.”

  “Scholarship?” she repeated. “I’m twenty-four years old, way past a scholarship.”

  “It’s a medical scholarship. Until twenty-five years of age,” he said. “You’ll have to move out of Malibu, though.”

  “Where?” she asked, forgetting about the whole plan to get annoyed at him.

  “Santa Barbara.”

  “I can’t,” she quickly said. “Living there is too expensive.”

  “The scholarship is a good one, though. And if you have a great scholastic record, you could apply.” He knew she had a good scholastic record, which was part of his private investigator’s report.

  She felt he was pushing her away though, but she didn’t comment on that. “I’ll think about it,” she said, wanting to end the call all of a sudden. He didn’t ask her how she was, but he thought about her the moment he heard about the scholarship through one of his acquaintances, who was chairman of the board for that certain prestigious school.

  He heard the tiredness in her voice. She sounded disinterested. Was she giving up on her nursing dreams? He disliked the idea that she would be that weak, that undetermined to give up on continuin
g her education.

  “You okay there?” he asked, before she could end the call.

  “Just tired,” she said.

  “Would you like to have dinner later?” he asked her. “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Where?” she said, startled that he asked that. “Didn’t you want this low key?”

  “At my beach house,” he said. “It’s still low key.”

  His place. His place was reserved for family and family alone. Maybe ex-girlfriends and a few friends. He had asked someone for dinner in the privacy of his house. Mikaela was merely a contract, but he had said this one impulse. He wondered what overcame him. What was going on with him? He couldn’t take it back, though. He wondered what he was going to cook for her already…

  “Sure,” she replied, after a pregnant pause.

  He almost sighed in relief that she said yes. He didn’t want to be turned down. That had happened only twice in his life and he never saw those women again, even if they begged for him to date them. No one refuses me, he had thought. He ended the call first, still wondering why he said that. He could have said that they could have dinner at her place, or at the penthouse, but no, he just had to say that.

  On the other end, Mikaela felt hope flutter again. He was asking her out on a date. A real date, at his own place. She tried to contain her excitement, and managed to sound nonchalant until the call ended. She was more excited about the dinner date than news of a scholarship. It wasn’t feasible anyway, moving to Santa Monica.

  This went beyond the contract. That left room for emotional attachment, a lot of room for it. Suddenly, she was half-anxious about what could happen. They had sex, they both fell asleep, and he kissed her goodbye… Would it happen again? Her mind raced. What would she wear? It was just going to be a house, but she wanted to look made up, although not too made up. She looked at the clock and saw she had five more hours of work to go. She couldn’t wait till she punched out.

  “I see you’re busy,” Mary Ann remarked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh, I just ate,” Mikaela stammered.

  “Half a sandwich?”

  “Not too hungry,” Mikaela smiled, feeling her mood elevate. “Your turn to eat.”

  Mary Ann shook her head and smiled. That guy with the fancy car must’ve been persistent. She hadn’t seen Mikaela this giddy in months. Even if she tried to hide it. Mikaela wasn’t exactly easy to read, but it was her smile that made things easier to notice. That coy smile when she put down her phone said it all.

  Mikaela worked steadily and surprised her coworkers when she left fifteen minutes after her shift ended. She didn’t linger to help some more, or cover for someone else who wanted to take a break.

  “Where’s she off to?” someone asked Mary Ann.

  “A date, I guess,” Mary Ann said with a smile.

  ***

  Mikaela chose denim shorts and a tank top. It looked very casual, but she thought it would suit the date. It wasn’t a formal date and for that she was glad. She did some light makeup, best that she could do, because Lynne wasn’t here. Besides, who needed makeup when you were in someone’s house and it was beside the beach?

  She wondered what it was like. She expected it to be big, though, big and lonely. It seemed he didn’t like anyone around him too much. She had quickly canceled the dance practice with the kids, hoping her friend would cover for her. She felt bad she had canceled when she hadn’t taught in weeks, but her personal life was at stake here, too.

  Her doorbell rang and he walked in. “Hi,” he said casually.

  “Hi,” she said, noticing she felt shy, like this was their first date. It wasn’t but it felt like it had been a long time. She wanted to kick herself for being childish. This was still his way of wanting to sleep with her, except he was being nicer this time.

  “Ready to go?” he asked her. “Don’t forget to bring a sweater just in case.”

  She nodded. “Have one in my bag.”

  “Excellent.”

  He had brought along a top-down Mercedes, and her eyes widened, seeing how sleek it was. Then she realized people around them were staring at the car. Again. He was an easy target for hooligans if she still stayed in her old neighborhood. As soon as he started the car, the roof retracted and she slid into the passenger seat, feeling the luxurious handmade leather upholstery underneath her palms.

  Some billboard song was playing on the touchscreen radio system, a tune that made her want to dance.

  “You dance?” he asked her as he drove away from the condominium.

  She nodded. “I teach hip-hop dance at a kid’s clinic.”

  “How do you find time for that?”

  “My days off, if it falls on the weekend.”

  He didn’t know about that, that she taught dance to kids. “Do you get paid for that?”

  “Hell, no,” she stopped, seeing the look on his face. “No. I’d like to think of it as giving back to the community.”

  “Are these street kids or something? Orphans?”

  She shook her head. “No, they’re just kids who live close to the coffee shop. They saw me dancing before, but that dance studio closed down. It was my way of exercising.”

  So that explained her figure. She was curvy in all the right places and she was lithe in bed… He took a breath, controlling his lust. “That’s really nice of you.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, not looking at him.

  “Did you always like dancing?”

  She smiled wistfully. “Since I could remember. Mom and Dad loved jazz dance. Jazz music, basically classic Hollywood.”

  Justin remembered the posters in her previous apartment. She liked classic movies, which he found strange. He hadn’t bothered to ask, he just thought it was a mismatch against her personality. He had seen her current apartment, and while her own things looked unkempt, the things he had gotten for her remained neat. He had finally seen more photos of her family in that quick visit to her apartment. She looked exactly like her mother, those were some good genes. They arrived twenty minutes after an easy drive, a cooler breeze flipping through her hair.

  She couldn’t see much of the house yet. Just a whitewashed wall with an automatic gate in a wooden finish. Was it going to be as stark as his penthouse? As soon as the gates slid open, her eyes popped out.

  This was his house? It was probably the biggest house she had ever seen. From the entrance, she could see the coastline, with some boats and their lights like fireflies in the sea. She heard the wave after wave crash on the shore, high tide was coming. She gingerly took a first step, as if afraid she would mess up the floor.

  He smiled at her. “Come on. This way.”

  He led her into the dining area with its open plan, adjacent to the common living room area, which had its own billiards table. She found herself walking straight for the balcony, staring in awe at the infinity-edged swimming pool with its glass walls for security. Beyond that was a series of steps that led to the beach. It looked like heaven in Malibu.

  “You live here alone?” she asked him.

  “Most of the time,” he admitted.

  “How many bedrooms are there?”

  “Six. Not counting the movie room and the gym.”

  “How can you have so many houses?” she asked, walking closer to the pool.

  “I don’t. It’s the company’s,” he said.

  “The company is yours.”

  “This was my dad’s favorite vacation house.”

  “Was?”

  “He’s… He passed away years ago.”

  “Oh.” Her tone changed. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. That was years ago. Anyway, what do you want to have for dinner? I’ve narrowed it down to pasta and hamburgers and fries.”

  “Pasta sounds faster,” she said.

  He nodded. “Pasta it is.”

  They walked back into the kitchen, with Mikaela still looking around the place. Everything screamed designer in the house. Why the hell would anyone w
ant designer brand pillowcases?

  He saw the look on her face. “You can walk around, you know. This place only has two floors. Go on,” he prodded.

  “I can?”

  “Yeah.” He knew she wouldn’t steal anything, remembering her looking around for him in the penthouse. It was something he had taken into consideration, which was why he put the $1,000 there just in case she got the greedy eye.

  He heard Mikaela’s footsteps on the hardwood floors his father had exported from Malaysia, and he smiled. He had never invited anyone that wasn’t his girlfriend to this place. It was too personal for him, even if his sisters held summer parties here once in a while, he considered this house a little escapade from the pressures that life so willingly gave to him. Mikaela got back down after ten minutes, as soon as he had drained the pasta and rinsed it in cold, running water.

  “I didn’t know you could cook,” she commented.

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he said.

  “That’s because you don’t talk much. It’s not part of the contract,” Mikaela told him.

  “Try me.”

  She blinked. “All right,” she said, looking up at the ceiling. “When’s your birthday?”

  “The day before we met.”

  “I didn’t get to greet you.” She sounded disappointed.

  “I didn’t throw a party, I just stayed at home. Talked to my family.”

  “That was it? I expected something more spectacular, a grand house party filled with booze and women.”

  He huffed. “What have you been reading? Media likes to sensationalize. Why do you think they’ve survived for so long?”

  “Whatever is newsworthy?”

  “Yes, whatever is newsworthy. Like dating models and celebrities and whatnot. Half is true, half is exaggerated, and majority of it is false. I happen to like my quiet time.”

  “What happened to your last girlfriend?” she suddenly asked as he deftly added olive oil to sundried tomatoes.

  He shook the pan around, then he looked up. “She and I ended on bad terms.”